Page 109 of Come to Me

It's banged up and uncared for, but it's still perfect.

It was still mine.

I catch my reflection in the mirror. Half my makeup is still on my face. I'm only halfway back to Alyssa, halfway back to my life.

Whatever that means.

I wet a towel with warm water and wash up. When I pull the towel away, it's smeared with some strange mix of black, beige, brown, purple even.

There's no more Blanche, no more pretexts, nothing left except me.

There are about three months between me and shooting the next season of Model Citizen. Three months with nothing to fill my time. Three months where my life will be waiting for Luke.

I shrug my shoulders in a futile attempt to ease my tight muscles. Three months will be great. I need a break. To stop fighting so damn much.

I lay on the couch. This is the last time I'll sink into its soft cushions, the last time I'll stare at the peeling paint on the ceiling.

My hands start shaking. After this, the only thing in my life that matters is Luke.

Unless he's already tired of me.

I press my eyes closed, willing the thoughts away. This is my last night in New York and I'm not going to spend it moping.

There's a knock on the door. Ellen, I'm sure. No doubt desperate to drink herself stupid, to go home with the cute bartender (though Nicholas would work in a pinch).

I push off the couch and open the door, but it's not Ellen.

It's Nicholas.

"I hope this isn't an imposition," he says.

I shake my head, a little confused why he's here.

While I'm half-dressed. Fuck. I pull my robe tighter, cinching its sash.

"No, of course not. Are you not going to the bar with us?"

"I am." He looks past me into the room. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Okay."

I step back and he enters the room. Somehow, he looks taller, larger, more sure of himself in the smaller confines.

He closes the door behind himself, making the space feel even more intimate.

I take a step back, trying to create more space.

"I just wanted to speak to you in a nice quiet place before we go to the bar," he explains with a slight smile.

I smile back.

"Yeah, I guess it isn't really an environment conducive to conversation."

"Exactly." He looks around the small room. "Now that your run is over—how did you like it?"

I relax a little.

"I'm really glad I was able to do it. It was... scary, tiring, exhilarating, insane. And I'd do it all again."